Horns and Helmet: An Assortment
by Dendraica
Summary: A collection of short fics and drabbles involving Tuffnut and his interactions with the other denizens of Berk. Some happy, others bittersweet, and maybe a few downright scandalous here and there. This series will likely never end, because the author is a proud nutjob who can't be stopped. (Warning: Plenty of these one-shots contain slash. Turn back now if you can't handle it.)
1. Axes are Red, Violence is Due

**Summary** : What made Tuffnut decide to change his hairstyle? (Pre-sequel)

* * *

Few things actually pissed Tuffnut Thorston off into a red-hot rage. One surefire way was to threaten or mess with Chicken. Another was to try and harm his dragon, Barf and Belch.

(Messing with or harming his sister got him into a cold calculated rage in which everything appeared fine, but you would not see the end coming until it was miles too late.)

A third and previously unknown method of firing thge boy up was apparently to just be Snotlout Jorgenson.

That was all Astrid could figure anyway, as she watched the Jorgenson boy run screaming and stumbling across the muddy field, Tuffnut swinging an oversized axe at his heels.

"I'M SORRY, OKAY?! I'M SORRY! SOMEBODY HEEEELLLLP!" Snotlout screamed as Tuff narrowly missed severing his spinal cord.

Astrid cracked her knuckles and then her neck, sighing.

Five seconds later, Tuff was on his back in the mud, getting it all over his face as he tried to staunch a bleeding nose. "Ow," he complained morosely. Astrid hefted the axe, testing its balance.

"Sorry, Tuff. Couldn't let you deflower such a beautiful weapon on Snotlout."

"Ah, it's okay. It wasn't paid for. Kinda yanked it away from Gobber as he was handing it to a customer."

"Bet he was thrilled. So, what exactly did Snotlout do?"

"Ugh, do I have to tell you?"

Astrid smirked. "Does it involve Ruffnut?" she guessed, knowing both of the twins were fed up to here with Snotlout's excessive flirting and serenading and Gods-knew-what-else.

"It involves a boner for Ruffnut. Pressed up against MY back."

She couldn't help it. Astrid burst out laughing, leaning against a fence post for balance. "Are you - are you serious?!" she gasped.

Tuffnut sat up angrily, trying to scrape mud off himself. "Not only did he mistake me for HER, since she didn't wear her braids today, but he comes up right behind me, with a raging, STIFF AS MJOLNIR'S HANDLE -"

"Okay, okay, shhh," Astrid managed, trying to calm her friend down. "I get the idea!"

"Not that I would care if a boner was MEANT for me, but -"

"Tuffnut, for the love of Thor, keep it down!" she snickered.

"But he goes, 'Hey, Ruff, wanna go on a midnight ride', and I fuckin' - AAAGH, I am just feeling so violated right now!" He punched the ground, sending mud spattering in his face.

Tuff actually really did sound upset. Almost on the verge of tears upset. Astrid bit her lip in sympathy and offered him a hand. "Well, you can't kill him since I'm sure he's half-way to Dragon Island by now, but I can at least make sure that doesn't happen to you again."

"Awww. You'll cut off his dick for me?" Tuff sniffled. "I don't care what Chicken says, you're a great friend."

"I … well, as tempting as that sounds, I actually had something else in mind. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Hiccup's eyes were full of questions as he kissed Astrid's cheek in greeting.

"Hey babe," she grinned, fingers still working deftly.

"Hey, Astrid. Tuff. Sooo, what's going on?"

"You wouldn't want to know," Astrid sang. "Grab a strand and do what I do, it's kind of relaxing."

Hiccup glanced again at Tuff, who was leaning his back against Astrid's legs, eyes half-closed in contentment and gently stroking Chicken's feathers as the bird snoozed in his lap. He shrugged and picked up a thick strand of blond hair, plaiting it like Astrid was doing. She wove a large bead in her current section.

"Think of the bright side," she remarked to Tuffnut. "At least Fishlegs hasn't done it."

"Like I would have felt his," Tuff snorted, eyes still closed. "He tends to sneak up on me with surprise poetry instead. Not half as bad as Snotlout's 'poetry'."

"More like a sonnet, I bet."

"Actually, about the size of a pun."

"Ouch!" Astrid laughed, tying another knot.

Wisely, Hiccup just didn't ask.


	2. Under the Missing Toe

**Summary** : Eret learns about a 'new' Snoggletogg tradition.

* * *

He'd traveled the world, encountered many cultures, but there was no doubt about it … Berk won hands down for the strangest name for a winter holiday.

Snoggletog was odd but certainly not unenjoyable. So far there were kids running around in costumes roaring at dragons, and people sneaking from house to house to hide gifts. The latter was a rather accidentally invented tradition, a very embarrassed-looking Astrid had told him. (Okay, that was a story she wasn't going to get away without telling!)

He was finding it all oddly charming until Ruffnut ran into him - literally and without apology, as she was wont to do since she'd met him.

"Hey, gorgeous. Wanna play a game?"

"Uh, not particularly, no." Eret stepped back and she stepped forward, flirting him into a literal corner.

"Come on, get in the spirit! We should play Missing Toe."

Eret wrinkled his nose in polite confusion, eyes darting sideways for a venue of escape. Just as he was about to make a dignified retreat (under the nearest table), the girl pointed up toward the rafters.

At a dismembered body part, bedecked with festive red berries and leaves tied around it.

"Missing Toe," Ruffnut explained loudly, over Eret's horrified head-turning screams, "Is a party game with some guy's toe that fell off. Frostbite: it happens! Now," she grinned wolfishly. "Pucker up and kiss me, you son of an Eret."

"What?! K-Kiss you? Why on earth would that be an even remotely sane thing to do under some putrid, decaying -"

"Hey!" Ack shouted from the crowd, offended, "That's my dad's toe you're talking about!"

" … you have my sincerest apologies," Eret retorted in sarcastic bewilderment, and Ruffnut advanced another step.

"Not even just a little kiss? It's a Berk tradition," she pouted saucily. There was muffled snickering from the Vikings surrounding them, but nobody bothered to correct the young woman. This was more entertaining to watch than the actual tradition anyway; Astrid's quick fist always got the drop on everyone and it had turned the betting pool rather stagnant.

Eret was practically climbing the wall. "I really don't think-"

"MISSING TOE! OOOH, I LOVE Missing Toe!" a voice yelled above the din. Ruff's face was the picture of resentment as she was suddenly shoved to the side.

"Don't waste it on her!" Tuff grinned at the confused and alarmed man before pointing to his own mouth. "Right here! Give it to me HARD, I want to taste blood!"

" … WHAT?!"

"Aye, give it to him!" someone who sounded suspiciously like Valka yelled.

"Yeah, it's tradition, Eret," Snotlout chimed in, grinning.

"Go on, right in the mouth! Like the lad asked for!" Gobber winked at him, grinning.

Well, the crowd wasn't about to let him get away without doing it. Eret growled in exasperation before grabbing the front of Tuffnut's shirt and yanking the young man forward.

"Eret, NO!" Ruff wailed.

"Eret, YES!" Fishlegs cheered, happy no-one was kissing his crush.

"MMRRRWHHT!?" Tuff flailed as he felt his lips kissed so hard they actually kind of hurt. Eret dropped him and stalked away, face reddening as multiple people clapped him on the back.

Others, like Snotlout and Gobber, were fairly crying with laughter and holding each other upright as the luckless Tuff sat up, dazed and breathless. Maybe even a little smitten.

"I think I liked that …"

"You ruin EVERYTHING!" Ruff yelled, stomping toward him.

"Hey sis, I can totally see why you - OWWWWW! OWOWOWOW!"

Eret shook his head and accepted the offered cup of mead from a friendly hand. He couldn't seem to stop the fire raging in his cheeks. "Berkians are freaking weird," he muttered into his drink, and he had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time he thought that.


	3. Morning

**Summary** : Hiccup and Astrid share a moment at the forge. With someone else. (Post-sequel)

* * *

Gobber always used to say that the best part of the early morning light was the way it gleamed and reflected on all the weapons hung up at the forge.

Hiccup had to disagree; it was definitely the way a certain warrior's hair captured those beams, spinning it into strands of shining gold. He used to dream about touching it for years, and now all he had to do was reach out his hand. It might get him a weird look, though in comparison to the punch he might have gotten much earlier, weird looks were very welcome.

Astrid was sitting on one of the cluttered benches, next to a pile of cured sheepskins. Between that and all the dented, scratched pots and pans and swords laying around waiting to be mended, Gobber's forge didn't have much seating room. "You let it all mound up on you again, Hiccup," Astrid said, examining a shield. "This is worse than when you spent all that time on your flaming sword. You were making up work for weeks."  
She didn't sound pleased. Hiccup let the grinding wheel stop, blowing on the edge of her axe to remove particles. "I know, but hey - at least you don't have to wait in line, right?"

"Hiccup, you've got to find a balance somewhere. I know it's important to discover as much as we can about dragons, but … don't forget about us."

Astrid sounded worse than exasperated all of a sudden. She sounded upset. Hiccup put down her axe and came over to sit by her - as close as he could manage around the mess on the bench. "Hey, hey … I have no intention of forgetting anyone," he said gently. Astrid didn't look at him.

Toothless rumbled at him from the corner where he was curled up, as though telling him he had to do better than that. Hiccup sighed. "Okay, you're right. I've been spending a lot more time than I probably should flying off exploring."

"And?"

"Ah … so much time that when I come back, I usually have a few boatloads of work to catch up on …"

"And?"

"Aaaand because of that, less time to spend with my amazing, badass, warrior girlfriend?"

"Mmm, better. Go on."

"Whom I fully intend to take on the most romantic flight of her life later tonight?"

"Hmph. Very good." Astrid smirked. "I've sure got you trained, huh?"

"Yeah, oh sure, you've trained the dragon trainer. Most impressive, Miss Hofferson," Hiccup teased lightly. Astrid laughed and leaned in for a kiss over the slightly shifting pile of skins, Hiccup doing the same.

What his lips met was decidedly not Astrid's face.

He opened his eyes and recoiled, falling off the bench and Astrid yelled in a panic, delivering a swift punch to the recipient of her own wayward kiss.

"OWOWOWOW!"

"Tuffnut, what the hell?!" she spat, wiping her mouth. The twin looked just as shell-shocked as either of them.

"Indeed, what the hell - all I did was sit up, I didn't ask for you two to kiss me awake!" he complained, massaging his chest where Astrid had likely bruised him. He looked from Hiccup to Astrid, suspiciously. "Wait. Are you cheating on each other?" Tuffnut looked aghast and strangely flattered.

"No, we are not - what are you doing sleeping here?" Hiccup asked, mystified.

"Oh, that. Snotlout decided he was going to serenade my sister all night. Hookfang started howling because it was so bad. Actually no, I think he was helping. Then Fishlegs came by and he wanted to read poetry he'd written, but Snotlout wouldn't stop singing, so 'Legs started shouting his poetry as loud as he could, which made Snotlout -" Tuffnut took a deep suffering breath, "SING EVEN LOUDER!"

"So that's what that noise was," Astrid muttered. "I thought Gothi's Terrors were tormenting the livestock again."

Hiccup was massaging his temples. "I completely sympathize, Tuff, but nobody's singing or reading poetry anymore, so maybe you should just go home now?"

"Ugh, maybe I should leave Berk. Then I won't have to deal with any nieces or nephews named Ruffsnot or Legnut or whatever," he grumbled, fighting his way out of the mound. He stalked off, still muttering a litany of possible unappealing names for Ruff's future children.

Astrid looked after him, shaking her head. "You know I almost feel sorry for the twins."

"Yeah me too," Hiccup admitted. "I should make them some earplugs."

"You do that. But I expect to see you tonight at sunset, Dragon Master," Astrid smirked at him. This time, her lips met his and Hiccup leaned into the kiss, happier than a Terror in a sunbeam.

"I wouldn't dream of being late," he grinned and watched the sunlight make her hair gleam as she walked away.


	4. A Loss That Echoes

**Summary** : Stoick's death leaves holes in many hearts, some with surprising depths.

* * *

"We're home," Tuff said, dropping his gear next to the door. Ruff walked past him, not even bothering to speak to the man slouched before the fire. He merely grunted at Tuffnut's words, reaching over for another log to throw into the hearth.

Tuff came over to face him, the same impassive and distant expression on his father's face didn't dissuade him any. He sat on the stone, letting the fire attempt to warm away the despair in his aching shoulders and neck. "We got Drago. Well, Toothless and Hiccup got him anyway. Everything's gonna be alright now. Everyone's safe."

Another grunt. His father glanced at him irritably, but it was a glance and Tuff felt almost elated by the attention until the man motioned to his empty cup. He handed it to Tuffnut who hesitantly took it and filled it up, like a good son, and handed it back to his father.

The man drank deeply, eyes no longer on his son but staring into the fire as though it held all the wisdom of Odin. Or maybe something he'd care more about, like all the mead in Valhalla.

"Ruffnut's going to marry three people," Tuff told him. "Snotlout and Fishlegs, and this other guy. He's a pirate or something. Has all these tattoos and scars. He'll probably end up kidnapping her."

Not even a blink of concern. And it had always been that way, hadn't it? Oh it was great when they were younger and their father just yelled for quiet whenever their mother scolded them for their antics. Their father's angry bellowing at their mother got them out of a lot of ear twisting; she had eventually given up on correcting their wild ways.

But Stoick had not. He'd yelled at them, punished them, angrily asked what they were thinking whenever they risked their lives. Tuff's father didn't even glare in disappointment when they were brought home in disgrace and handed over to their sullen, silent mother.

Always staring into the damn fire. Always drinking, or eating, just letting bits of meat and bread fall into his beard and rot there, until their mother combed it out for him.

Tuff's heart was branded with guilt over all the times he'd wished Stoick was their father, instead of this silent brooding shadow. He grit his teeth, not willing just now to give up.

Stoick was gone.

His father was here now.

"Dad," Tuff said, desperately. Deep down he knew it was useless. He knew their father didn't care whether they risked life and limb or destroyed property, but it would never stop him from trying. He debated how to best get a reaction, but he knew anything he could possibly say wouldn't matter.

The man didn't care. Not like Stoick had, and the gap he'd left was huge and suddenly too much. A wave of grief hit Tuff in the chest and he bowed his head in defeat, eyes filling with tears.

He let them fall, aware of only the fire's dull crackle and the sound of mead pouring down his father's throat.

It felt like hours later when a slender calloused hand gripped his shoulder.

"Come on," said his twin. "Come outside before you start to smell like him."

Tuffnut hitched painfully; his sister's disdain for their father had come much earlier than his ever would. It hurt to hear, but her hands were gentle as she pulled him to his feet and led him away.

Ruffnut didn't ask him why he'd tried. He knew she understood, especially now. Once she got him to sit on the porch of the chicken coop, her fingers found the knots in his shoulders and neck, deftly massaging them away. She twiddled with his hair, braiding and unbraiding until the sound of his grief had subsided into tired silence.

"I miss him too," she said finally, resting her forehead against his shoulder. Tuffnut knew she didn't mean their own father. He turned to put an arm around her shoulders and together, they watched the windows of their home remain dark, even as night fell around them.


	5. It's a Birthmark

**Summary** : There is pain, and there is art. Dagur enjoys inflicting both on people.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

The boy was inches from Dagur's elbow as he worked, steadily tapping the needle of blue ink under the skin of his forearm. Dagur scoffed in annoyance, but answered him anyway.

"It's called a tattoo. You Berkians are so lame, you probably couldn't handle one."

"Does it hurt?" The excited fascination in Tuffnut's voice was noticeable. The Thorston kids were weird. Dagur smirked.

"Seriously painful. Most grown men pass right out and wake up crying for their mothers."

"Hah. I want to see that. You should sneak up on people and give them out."

Dagur paused. The old men were in the next room, talking about that idiotic treaty. And he'd stayed out of trouble long enough. His sudden grin was all teeth. "You're right. I should."

The Berserker boy moved fast, and suddenly Tuffnut's ribs were slammed across Dagur's thighs, his arm pinned behind his back. He yanked the boy's tunic up, exposing his lightly freckled flank. Tuffnut was catching his breath, but apparently too stunned to struggle yet.

"Now what should I do, hmm? Something appropriate to Berk. How about a sheep?"

It wasn't really a question meant to be answered; usually this was where the pleading would start. However, Tuffnut wasn't proving to be a usual victim. "Oooh, ooh, a dragon! Make it a dragon!"

Dagur's eyebrows rose in surprise. Huh. Well, it wasn't like the Thorston boy really even knew what was coming, so his fearlessness wasn't that impressive.

"Okay. A tiny dragon. If you start kicking and screaming, it'll turn into a chicken," he warned. Either way, it would probably look more like a smudge with wings; Dagur wasn't a great artist and he was confident Tuffnut would start crying once the needle met its mark. Not that he was going to let him up if he did.

Dagur roughly forced Tuff to lay more on his side, forcing him into an arc. The skin needed to be taut for this. He was not disappointed by the sound Tuffnut made as the makeshift needle plunged into the skin near his ribs. A whimper, followed by a short high pitched squeal, and a little kick. Dagur clamped down on Tuff's arm even tighter. "Aw, too much?" he sneered.

"I'm - I'm kind of ticklish there, can you move a little more left?" came the answered squeak.

". . . Can I what?"

"Yeah seriously, super ticklish right there where your knuckles are brushing. Left just an inch is golden," Tuff managed.

Dagur jabbed again, so confused he forgot to be extra vicious, and was at least rewarded with another deliciously pained whimper. Good, he hadn't lost his touch. He worked swiftly, not allowing any mercy, simply tattooing the outline of a passable dragon, giving the tail an extra curl, and then rapidly filling in the space. It was probably too big for someone Tuff's age to start with, but Dagur gave no quarter.

He instead thoroughly enjoyed the low open-throated keens coming from the youth, the way Tuff's boots dragged and slid across the wooden floorboards as an outlet for his pain, sweat and blood on his skin, the crescents Tuff's nails made in his own palm. These were all hallmarks of the agony Dagur must be causing him right now, and while they were quieter than the Berserker normally enjoyed, it at least meant the adults were none the wiser to what was going on out here.

Finally, too soon really, Dagur had filled in the shape with ink. He wiped the blood off with a clean rag, able to feel Tuff's body trembling against his thighs. The boy breathed unevenly, hot puffs of air hitting his leg and it took him a long time to bring himself to stand. There were tear tracks running down his face, but he hadn't screamed to be let up and he also hadn't passed out.

Dagur felt oddly proud of him. So proud in fact that he found himself telling the glassy eyed boy how to care for the tattoo so it didn't get infected. "And whatever you do, don't scratch it. Because it will itch," he cautioned, applying a thick bandage to the area.

Tuff's hand froze on the way to his side. "Got it," he rasped, and self consciously wiped at his eyes.

Dagur almost ruffled his hair. But he regained self control swiftly enough, and sent the boy off with a casual boot to the rear. "Good, now buzz off. And don't tell anyone you have a tattoo. Pretty sure your mom will have a yak."

Tuffnut grinned back at him and walked off with a slight bounce in his step. Freaking weirdo, Dagur thought, although he allowed himself a fond smirk as he turned back to his own inking.


	6. Bruised Chances

**Summary** : Hiccup offers emotional support for a broken heart, despite his own.

* * *

Hiccup chuckled fondly as he watched Toothless pounce at leafy shadows in the encroaching dusk. The Night Fury's playful antics ceased abruptly as a noise was heard not too far off where they walked. Ears tilted forward, Toothless curiously made his way over to a grove of trees and Hiccup followed, wanting to make sure the dragon didn't find trouble.

A hen's sharp cluck and fluttering wings made the both of them jump, Toothless side-hopping away like a startled cat. His ears flattened in exasperation when he recognized Chicken. As both dragon and Hiccup knew, where there was Chicken, the male Thorston twin wasn't far behind.

While Toothless grumbled and flopped down among the fall leaves, Hiccup grinned and moved closer to the trees. "Tuff? You there?"

YThe twin occasionally drove Hiccup up a wall, it was true, but then he drove everyone on Berk crazy sooner or later. The long summer at Dragons Edge had given Hiccup some insight as to why he cared so intently about what Tuff thought about him - both in the past and present.

It had been subtle at first, like the time he'd spend all night working on a new tail for Toothless one wintry evening, just because of a certain someone's snarky comment. Lately though, he'd "thought about what Tuffnut said" many other times, more than he'd ever really mentioned to Astrid. Now he finally understood.

Tuff was here, without his sister, back pressed up against a tree and face half-hidden in shadow. Maybe now Hiccup could screw up enough courage to talk about it, to see where Tuffnut stood on the subject. As soon as the scant moonlight revealed the rest of Tuffnut's expression, Hiccup felt a pang in his chest. Right now was definitely not the time for any such discussion.

"What's wrong?" Hiccup asked, and he hoped it was the earnest concern in his tone that chased away the beginnings of a sneer from the other boy's countenance. Hiccup *knew* something was wrong. Tuff usually looked like he wanted to punch something when he was angry, but he'd never before looked like he wanted to punch something and cry.

"Snotlout," Tuffnut snapped out, as though the name itself was poison. He took a breath, let it out in a long controlled hiss between his teeth. "Snotlout is what's wrong."

Hiccup tried to think of how someone like Snotlout Jorgenson could possibly get under Tuffnut's skin this bad, but he was spared the asking as Tuffnut continued.

"He lied to me. Acted like he wanted to be my friend - MY friend. Not OUR friend, but mine. Listened to me, tried to find a common interest, helped me out with the boar pit." Tuffnut swallowed thickly and Hiccup nodded, uneasy at where this was going.

Snotlout and Tuff *had* been hanging around each other a little more the past couple days, but he'd suspected it was all leading up to an epic prank of some sort. Snotlout had always been one of the twins' favorite targets.

"He was nice to Chicken. He …" Tuffnut's eyes closed briefly, pale lashes keeping back sudden moisture. "He asked if he could learn the ways of Loki. And he sounded genuine, like he *meant* what he said about offering to help me with my devotions. As if everything else wasn't bad enough, he lied about that. And do you know why?"

Hiccup shook his head, not able to recall a time when he'd seen Tuffnut so emotionally crushed. Part of Hiccup was thrilled Tuff was actually talking with him instead of just bantering, the other yearned to know what to say to comfort him.

"Snotlout - and Fishlegs - both like my sister. I heard them arguing about who had a better chance with her. Fishlegs was saying he'd asked girls for advice, and Snotlout … He said he had an 'in' with her brother."

Hiccup's heart sank like a stone as Tuff brokenly continued. "I wasn't his friend. Im just a field manual, a cheat code, or whatever the hell else you call a person you intend to use and toss away when you're done." Tuff spat. His voice was suspiciously thick and Hiccup pretended not to see him wipe his eyes. A gentle sad trill sounded from Tuffnut's other side and Hiccup watched as the Night Fury - barely visible in the dark - nuzzled his head under Tuff's arm.

"I liked him." Tuff muttered, absently stroking Toothless' scales. Hiccup felt himself possessed with a sudden envy, until the meaning of those words hit him, sucking his breath away. "I actually … really liked Snotlout. The worst part is … I still kinda do."

They sat in silence, both hurting, Hiccup for different and yet similar reasons. He decided to focus his pain into anger at Snotlout. Of all the thoughtlessly cruel things the boy had ever said or done, this took the top shelf.

"Do you want me to kill him?" Hiccup asked flatly in all seriousness and too late his mind screamed TALK TO - not KILL, TALK TO - we are REASONABLE VIKINGS for Thor's sake!

Tuffnut stared at him in honest shock before grinning brightly through his tears in a way that made Hiccup's heart flutter. "I thought at best you'd offer to give him a verbal lashing and some nasty chores. But cold blooded murder? You DO care!" He threw his arms around Hiccup's shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

Hiccup's brain short circuited and he hugged back, muttering some form of abashed denial.

"Oh, I know you won't actually kill him, but the fact you considered it even for a moment … it really means a lot to me that you actually got mad enough on my behalf." There was nothing to say, only nod as Tuff hurriedly dried his face with Chicken's 'help'. He looked better than he had before; though still shaky and eyes overly bright, Tuff now sported a shadow of his usual smirk.

"He'll get his due later anyway. Especially since my sister is nowhere near interested in either of them. She still has her hopes set on you."

Tuff gave him a friendly nudge to the ribs and Hiccup laughed weakly. "Ah hah hah, yaaaay." Toothless warbled, rolling his eyes in agreement.

With the mood lifted somewhat, they walked back to the outpost, each keeping to his own thoughts. Hiccup rested a hand lightly on his dragon friend's back, trying to piece back together his shattered hopes. There was still time, at least. Astrid knew and had agreed to be his beard, so long as he did the same courtesy for her and Heather.

Who knew, maybe Tuff would realize someday exactly how much he was cared for and by whom. Right now, Hiccup could only wait and see.


	7. Siren Song

Summary: For a prompt challenge - 'A day at the beach for a pairing of your choosing. 200 words or less.'

* * *

It wasn't every day that a seasoned trickster got what was coming to him. Tuff was seconds from dumping the bucket of fish guts upon his unsuspecting prey, when the man unexpectedly opened his mouth to sinThe tune was catchy; some shanty about mermaids luring sailors off the boats and chewing them up alive.

Tuff was entranced as always when it came to a well sung ballad and even more so by the deep and stunningly pleasant quality of Eret's voice.

Such was his enjoyment that Tuff did not watch his balance and - after much panicked flailing - landed ass over kettle in a heap of sand and entrails. Eret's surprised laughter turned the boy's face red much longer than it should have, but he took some solace in the offered hand.

His sister could have the biceps, Tuff reasoned later, so long as the songs belonged to him.


	8. Are You Sure You Know What You're Doing?

**Summary** : Tuffnur tries to seduce Eret. It doesn't quite go as planned.

* * *

Eret shivered as he waited outside the armory in the dark and frigid night air. He was fast growing irritated; Tuffnut said he would be here about twenty minutes ago. The only thing that kept him there, other than the fact he'd been trying to get the oblivious fool's attention for weeks, was intrigue at the enigma that was Tuffnut Thorston. The boy had gone from not even noticing Eret's existence to insisting he was going to 'blow Eret's mind' tonight.

The armory was what they agreed upon for a meeting place, since apparently ( in Tuff's own words) the presence of weaponry turned the boy into a weapon himself. 'The world's most deadly weapon' in fact, which wasn't exactly an enticing or comfortable thing to hear when referring to a tryst. But it certainly was amusing. Eret had tried very valiantly not to laugh and only mostly succeeded. Maybe his mirth had scared the boy off? That or this was nothing more than a prank.

Eret was relieved to notice a slight blond figure creeping over the top of the hill. He'd decided to show up after all, then.

"Sorry," Tuff panted, half an hour after the appointed time. "You would not believe how hard it is to shake Fishlegs when he wants to bond with his 'future brother-in-law'."

Did that let Tuff off the hook? Hell no. "Fishlegs, eh? So that's what you were doing all this time. Took you a while."

Tuff punched his arm. "I'm gonna pretend I have no idea what you're alluding to because I don't need the mental image." He preceded him inside the dark building. "Come on, I got plans for you." Exasperated and a little curious, Eret followed him inside.

"I hope whatever you're planning was worth waiting for you out in the cold."

"Yeah, it will be," Tuff said distractedly. He was looking anywhere but directly at Eret. He took a breath as though gathering his nerve. Then he turned around and sprung at Eret violently.

Years of dragon-trapping and dodging blasts of fire and plasma meant that Eret simply stepped aside and let Tuffnut crash into a stand of crossbows, sending them all swinging and clattering wildly. Tuff had fallen into an undignified cursing heap and sat up dizzily, righting his helmet..

"What was that?" Eret asked, once all the noise died down.

"You weren't supposed to move!" Tuff hissed back, hand over his bleeding mouth. He'd apparently accidentally made out with the wooden bar instead of Eret. The former trapper stared at him a moment, then burst out laughing.

"When you say 'deadly weapon', does that actually mean none of your lovers survive the night?" he managed, wiping his eyes.

"Shut up! It would have worked if … if you'd just stayed still!" Tuff snapped. He scowled, then looked away, humiliated. "It's what Astrid told me to do."

"Astrid?! She told you to do this?"

"No, not exactly. Well, she told me I needed to be aggressive." Tuffnut could not look at him, and Eret stopped laughing, feeling bad. "She said I needed to go after you and I've never felt this way about a guy, so I asked her what she would do and she said she'd just … go for it and kiss him. I couldn't exactly do it in front of everyone. S-So I asked you to meet me here. I thought the weapons would give me courage or something." Tuff bit his lip in the way Eret had always found adorable.

"Do you know why I agreed to meet you?" Eret asked. Tuff looked at him finally, surprised the man was still there and hadn't just walked out. "I met you because I'm interested already. I like you. Thought you'd finally noticed."

Tuff's face was unreadable in the dark, but Eret knew it was reddening. "Heh. So, I didn't have to make an idiot out of myself to get your attention?"

"No. You already had it."

Eret reached down and lifted him up to his feet before pulling Tuff into a hard kiss. He punctuated it with a meaningful nibble on Tuff's bloody lip. "Ow."

"Sorry."

"Nah. I kind of like it," Tuff grinned. "If we do this again, I probably won't tackle you. Or at least I won't miss."

Eret just laughed and kissed him again.


	9. Traditions

**Summary** : In which Eret finds there is more to wooing a dragon rider than previously anticipated.

* * *

There had been a lot of intensive labor done in the village that week. Stoick's statue was nearly completed with the help of Bucket's artistic endeavors and a great portion of ice had been melted down or chipped off to fall into the ocean. Everyone was exhausted and emotionally fatigued and yet the work seemed to have a healing effect on the people of Berk.

Yet as much as there was left to do, it was met with unspoken agreement that tonight was to be a celebration - a night of drink, song, reminiscing, story-telling and laughter.

The Great Hall was awash with firelight, torches lining the wall and the main firepit roaring. There were heaps of mutton, chicken, roasted boar, smoked eel, fresh braided bread, cheese and apples - enough for every plate (and more than enough mead for every horn.)

At one table, Ruffnut bit into an apple, licking the juice off her wrist in a way that made Snotlout and Fishlegs break into a cold sweat. Tuffnut rolled his eyes and took a bite out of a leg of mutton. He really didn't understand the fuss about his sister. Or any girl really.

To his own personal horror, Snotlout stood up on the bench and cleared his throat. Ruffnut beamed up at him, and Tuffnut wished he could crawl into the earth or turn invisible, knowing exactly what was coming. Indeed, the rest of the Great Hall's murmuring dwindled - everyone loved a Boasting Song. It was tradition; the first of many formal announcements of a man's attraction to a woman. They were endlessly entertaining, whether the woman flatly turned down the man singing his boasts or joined in.

Tuffnut had enjoyed them plenty before, especially when Ruff had turned Snotlout down, but now she watching him sing his Boasts as though he was the only person in the Great Hall and it was … weird. He glanced around the Hall, looking for Eret and wondering if the dragon-trapper had any protests to have lost the attentions of his twin. Much to his relief, Eret was sitting at a far table, looking far more interested in his food than in what was going on.

He completely missed whatever Snotlout sang; something about fighting a whole army of Beserkers and sinking an armada for her hand in marriage (points to him for knowing she loved carnage and destruction) but the table suddenly rattled with the speed in which Fishlegs stood up to sing his Boasts.

There were exclamations and scattered chuckles; a Boastful Song with two men vying for the same woman's hand was even more entertaining (since it usually ended in a fight).

Wanting nothing to do with it, Tuffnut dropped his mutton on a plate and took himself and it to the other side of the Hall. He ignored the stares it brought him; generally it was rather offensive to walk away from a table so abruptly. At the same time, staying that close to his sister while she was being courted (and actually enjoying it) was awkward as hell. Nobody stopped him to scold or shoo him back, so they must have at least somewhat understood his plight.

Tuffnut found another seat on the edge, next to Mulch. The man paid him no mind, busy explaining to Bucket what Fishlegs had just sung. It had involved a lot of technical terms and though Ruff looked confused, she was petting his arm and cooing that she liked the way he'd fight a 'Leviathan Class Ten' for her. Especially if he lost a lot of blood and limbs while doing it. Fishlegs was looking suddenly green now, much to the amusement of everyone else.

Tuff rolled his eyes, feeling suddenly miserable and left out. He didn't notice the former dragon-trapper's gaze on him, nor the slow way Eret got up, sidling toward his new table.

Sullenly he kept eating his meal, wishing everyone in the Great Hall would randomly burst into flames. (He was so depressed, he might actually help put some people out.) Bad enough nobody would ever sing like this for him, but he'd someday be expected to cultivate enough interest in some girl and go through all this for her. And then hope she liked it enough to at least consider not humiliating him. That was it. That was the only option he had, and it sucked.

For a moment, he tried to cheer himself up by imagining Eret singing instead. Even if it was for someone else; the timbre of his voice and what he'd sing would be far more pleasant than the cacophony his friends were making now.

"Mind if I join you?" his smooth voice drawled. Oooh, not bad. Wait …

"What?!" Tuffnut blurted, inhaling in surprise. He choked and started flailing. A strong fist pounded him on the back and he coughed out the meat on the floor. It disappeared in a flash of green scales and teeth.

"Easy. No need to kill yourself just to escape the racket. What is all that about, anyway? I don't half understand - one minute she is climbing all over me, the next I'm barely noticeable."

"Dude," Tuffnut snapped, his weird happiness at Eret's presence suddenly diminishing. "You are not seriously asking me for advice on how to court my sister?"

"GODS, no!" Eret exclaimed, looking disturbed. "I was wondering how I yet again escaped by the skin of my teeth, and whether I needed to worry still."

"Huh? Oh. Nah, you're safe. She's decided on either of them. Or both. I don't care, whatever. You're off the hook, trust me."

"Ah, good. Very good." Eret was fidgeting. He picked up a fork, put it down, then rolled it between his fingers. "So, when are you going to sing?"

Tuffnut almost choked on his food again. "Wha –? Uuggghhh! She's my sister!"

"No, no, no! You misunderstand - I meant for your girl? Surely a lad as handsome as you has a girl?"

"Hah! Nope, not interested, with a capital 'I'. Or do I mean 'N'? Both," he decided.

Eret was at a loss for words. After a long moment, staring at Tuffnut, he cleared his throat. "If I may ask … that is, if you are not interested in girls … ?"

"Yeah, I'm not. I don't care what my parents or anyone else says; if I go to even half the trouble Snot and Legs are going, it's not gonna be over a female."

Tuff had little time to wonder why Eret was staring so intently; a wave of cheers and applause suffocated all possible means of conversation. The Boasting Song had predictably ended with Fishlegs tackling Snotlout off the bench. Ruff was cheering loudly, egging both of them on as they rolled under tables, Terrors shrieking and scampering out of the way.

He watched them for a while, feeling unexpectedly warm and restless. Maybe it was the fighting; he suddenly wanted to fight, to tackle someone to the ground and trade blows. Wired, Tuffnut felt a hand on his arm and very nearly took a swing at the owner. Eret's eyes looked weird in the firelight; and there was an odd tone to his voice. "Outside," he muttered. "I wish to talk and it's too loud in here."

Tuffnut almost leaped from the bench to follow him, needing some air and space himself from the revelry. Once they were out under the stars, Eret turned abruptly to face him.

"Would you be object terribly if a man was interested in you?" he asked bluntly. Tuffnut stared, then backed up as Eret moved in, with a charming smile. "Even a man as handsome as myself?"

His vanity was as appealing as Snotlout's wasn't. Tuffnut was completely blindsided; of all the reasons Eret had wanted to go outside, this had not registered as a possibility.

Yes, he was supposed to say. Yes, he would 'object terribly', involving his fist through the other man's teeth. Because that's what any man was expected to say to such a question. However, Tuffnut couldn't bring himself to say it, nor could he raise a fist.

Eret moved in closer and Tuffnut could see every bead of sweat clustered at his brow, could smell his hair. He smelled sharp, like the ocean. Like the salted fish he'd once used to bait dragon traps with. Realization flooded him then; why it had driven him crazy to watch Ruffnut fawn and flirt with Eret. Why he'd been so relieved when Eret had rejected and ignored everything she threw at him.

Nevertheless, before Eret's mouth could so much as brush his own, Tuffnut regained enough control to put up his hands between them. "Not so fast."

Looking disappointed, Eret pulled back. "Listen, I've had my eyes on you for longer than you think," he almost pleaded. "Why do you think I undid your bonds first on Drago's ship?"

"Yeah, that's nice," Tuff said, though his heart did a little skip and jump at that knowledge. "But  
even if I was interested, and I'm not saying I'm not, no self-respecting Viking would just kiss someone who's never so much as whistled a tune at them."

"You're not serious."

"Deadly serious. This face? More serious-er than any serious face I've made. If you're serious, then you'll court me like the Hooligan I am."

"O-kay …" Eret muttered awkwardly.

He wasn't going to. Tuff knew with a certainty that nobody as proud as Eret would ever sink so low; he could have any pick of girls (or boys) on Berk without having to resort to such a thing. Part of him wanted to take it back, but there was more stubbornness in him than a Loki tree had bark beetles so he firmly shut his mouth and turned away.

A cheer erupted from the Great Hall, still audible outside. Warmth poured out from the crack between the doors, a sharp contrast to the chilled air they were standing in. Tuff shivered in the silence.

"Ah," Eret said, softly, as though understanding something. Tuffnut figured it meant he was going to give up and walk away now. Most sensible people would. He almost did himself, but then a sound stopped him cold.

The man's voice was just as amazing as he'd imagined it would be. Tuffnut licked suddenly dry lips, trying to focus on the words. He wanted to remember them, even as Eret stumbled over them endearingly.

The trapper wasn't familiar with half of Berk's customs, yet he was willing to do a decent try at this one. Boasting Songs weren't easy, you had to sing from the heart what came to mind, and fast. Eret was already running out of words and Tuffnut didn't have to wait too long to cut in.

When they both came up for air, Tuff couldn't help but tease him just a little.

"You realize if you meant all that, Ruffnut's gonna be your future sister-in-law?"

Eret groaned, but didn't let him go.


End file.
